(I first wrote this poem when inspiration hit me, while I was in taiwan, after a shower. I wrote the first stanza on the fogged up mirror with my finger, which freaked out my mother when she stepped in after me)

NIGHT FALLS: a poem

The literates of the world will tell you that night
falls, as if it were
the clothes draped over the deceased, or the
lowering of the coffin lid;
as with a certain
suddenness.
That is not the case.

As any casual observer of the stars will tell you,
night does not fall.
It seeps.
It blends and mixes with the light till it becomes dark.
From the afternoon sun, it bleeds white to blue
to the stillness of the night.

Night is slow. The few awake at its apex
have seen the speed of the night,
the crawl of the stars high above in their own
desired paths. There is a stillness,
a quiet, a shutting down and out and ending
of the things of the previous day.

The literates will say that dawn breaks.
This, though, I wholeheartedly agree with.
Dawn does not appear with any suddenness,
for the light of the sun heralds its arrival
far before the luminous sphere itself
appears in the sky. A wave of blue rings
out in ripples across the clouds, and the
brightness of dawn draws out the rooster's
call. No, dawn is not swift in its arrival,
but it is ever on time.

For night seeps in sideways, not from where the
Earthbound ever fix their sight: straight upward
into the clouds; or from beneath their feet, the
haven for awkward eyes in awkward times. No, it creeps in
from periphery, the blind spots, till the
unaware find themselves utterly caught
in it (as if they knew not
that night has to fall).
But dawn, dawn always breaks.
It hides nothing for it knows the way
darkness flees. Dawn breaks as cloth tears;
as stones roll away. And as dawn returns,
life endures, continues, evermore.

Labels: poem

ooo! poem!



I.

I wake
I walk
I brush my teeth
I eat, I read
I drink coffee
I wear, I drive
I turn the keys
and all around me
I see
the Empty.

The man standing on the stage
microphone to lips, in the parade
the melody the notes
the harmonising chords
the dance the moves
the golden awards
they adorn the sides of the rooms of the heart
but between the walls, dividing them apart
lie the bottomless void
the aching depths
and if you look
you see
the Empty.

The woman boasts with pouting lips
her suitors abound, yearning for a kiss
the flowers in hand, the corsages on shirts
the smoky eye shadow, the shortening skirts
a fleeting moment where the need is filled
then lonesome moments when bother is killed
and once again the need is there
enhanced by these discrepancies
and if you look
you see
the Empty.

open your eyes to look
to see
most men and women, you will agree,
find inside themselves, to a degree
an aching, tired, hungering
Empty.

I wake I walk
I brush my teeth
and if in this mirror
you look
you see
the .





II.

(There's a secret
that some don't tell
of a man who lived
and knew the Full
He walked the ground
others had trod
but His steps had held
some divine pull.

He spoke about
a different world
where a life meant more
then lonesome voids
Where men didn't think
about the Empty
but in the pouring
to others enjoyed

The men they gaped
at such strange thoughts
the institutions
He undermined
"Heretical man
such blatant untruths"
they called love liar
the Full maligned

He showed the world
just what He meant
when the Full was poured
into Empty
Body broken and
tattered and torn
and the Full was given
to all, given free.



Now the secret is this:
the man who had the Full
poured it out in death
so that we who once were found Empty
could breathe the Full in breath.)



III.

If you like me
sometimes still see
the Empty behind the veil
Call out to Him
who's Full to brim
for He will never fail.







It's in my personal opinion that the ending sucks a little. I need to add more to it. but I'm tired :/ ah well.

Labels: poem

I wrote this while lying on my bed and half falling asleep

Clay

I am not made
of moonbeams and stas
of the red lives of mars
Asteroid beaten and comet scarred

I am not made
through earthly ways
And all my earthly days
Are merely my temporal phase

I am more than
the tattered and torn
the looked-down-upon
the shamed and the scorned

I am made
of dullest darkest grey
of molded and fashioned clay
more than just another cliche

I hold enough
of His Grace for my needs
His Freedom to be freed
His strength for His deeds

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.



It's been a while since I've written.
ENJOY.

Labels: poem

time now: 03:45
telling myself to write
just gotta wait

pick a random topic now
*rustle rustle*
hmmm... okay


Shepherd

I am
the one who sits, counts, watches.

I am
the one that sits against the
hazel brown tree
under the shade of the youthful leaves
as They graze on the field

I am
the one
that walks in front of Them
leading Them to the flow
of cascading, sparkling diamonds
each one with its own small rainbow

I am
the one who, for all intents and purposes
looks sound asleep
but on the first broken twig
draws his staff in its direction

I am
the one
who sees the beast of black and claw
but does not back down
for fear of harm
to the ones behind me

I am
the one who merely points and swings his staff
with mere hopes of scaring

I am
the one who takes that leap of faith

I am
the one who is seconds away from open jaws
and unsheathed claws

I am not
the one who made
this stick of oak
into a golden, glittering hilt
attached to a long silver blade

I am not
the one who
somehow
persuaded my arm to move against its will
to deal an unnatural wound

I am not
the one who's actions were
smooth
quick

I am not
the one who dealt 3 quick strokes
that were enough

I am
the one
who woke up minutes later
staff in hand
no one around
bear on the ground

I am
the one who lead my sheep
back to their pen

I am
the one indebted

I am not
the one who found a way out

and it seems

I am not
the only shepherd out today



Ni, time now is 4:16
just a little over half an hour
yes, it takes me that long to write an impromptu poem

Labels: poem

It rolls down my face
one clear blue drop
it would if it could
but this pearl can't stop

it leaves a trail
and in it engraved
all that I am
broken but saved

it weighs little
but carries alot
a wellspring of sorrow
the darkness of loss

it clouded, it ruled
through sorrow and pain
but now its gone
at the mention of Your name

it rolls down my face
this one clear drop
and at Your Name Lord
my sadness stopped

based on an original poem
by... a friend

His Name is higher
---Higher, Mighty To Save, Hillsong

Labels: poem

mmm, rush hour 3 turned out to be quite a waste
too short I say, too short

yesterday was great yo
served for RGB
which was fun!
my slides were awwwwesome
heh
plus, me and xue er have innovated a shoe poem
goes a little something like this

"black espadrilles are really hot
and modani shoes make you look short"
that's what my friend said
its due to her head
that's about the size of a dot

hah
so funny
no, not really

limerick!

best. toy. penguin. ever.
pingu!

no idea what I'm talking about
later

Labels: poem

Another emo poem written under the insistence of valerina (not that I'm complaining)
and no, there is no subliminal message about how much I hate someone in this poem
and personally, I think its way too emo

The Blade
I've been walking around with a pain in my back
Never seen it coming, only felt the attack
Into the left side, out through the heart
Our friendship mutilated, you cut it apart
I've heard all the lies, they could never be true
Now I can't believe I once trusted you
I've been walking around with a pain in my back
the blade that's inside me? It'll slice your neck

Labels: poem

quick one

Blue
Bright as azure
Dark as sapphire
A heart shining with stars
Or dark with hellfire

And before you ask, I'm not being emo
This poem was written in 5 minutes, so dont blame me if it sounds weird

Labels: poem

sorry I haven't exactly blogged alot
been busy
which is very very weird
for me, that is.

played out reality bites was awesome! but my fall wasn't as nice as the one I did when the SPs were there. boo. but its alright, it was believable. yay.

there were >700 people that came, 126 first time visitors, and 60 decisions. YAY!
I think everything we did, the month-worth of rehearsals, was worth it. so worth it.

I found my shoebox
of letters and dreams
sent by a friend
or so it seems

two years worth
of letters from you
two years worth
so very few

each told a bit
of the story inside
which I knew was true
though fervently denied

the story about
a girl and her friend
who drifted apart
not by his hand

do you remember
that letter you wrote
2nd october
you wrote this note

what it said inside
meant alot to me
"friends forever"
I agreed

mmmmm, nice poem
at least I like it
heh

I think God's really doing a work in trinity
you can tell
theres just so much God can do
and theres so much I want to see him do

on another note, pictures from L camp are up
including a really spastic one with me blowing a balloon...

I miss you.
badly.

Labels: poem

First, some random update, followed by philosophical randomness, followed by poem

Notes to self:
1. talk too much with benn
- during math lesson, audrey tay tells class that "when it comes to exams, don't be fooled by seemingly easy questions
- overly high gideon randomly interrupts/shouts "don't be fools yo"
- heh heh
2. sleeping earlier (yay)
- beginning to sleep at 1-ish instead of 2-ish
3. smsing more
- not saying its bad though
4. meeting teachers of buses is bad
- meeting teachers on buses
- say hi
- AWKWARD bus ride
5. the physical science teacher hates me
- I don't need proof
6. I'm going for all timeless showtimes
- yes, I am insane

Philosophical:
Let me ask you, what is the difference between reality and existence?
existence, is what really is
reality, is what we perceive existence to be
Therefore, what we perceive as reality, may be different from existence.
i.e. YOU DON'T EXIST, YOU'RE A FIGMENT OF MY IMAGINATION
dum dum dum
or maybe I don't exist.
But thats impossible
quoting rene descrates:"Cognito, ergo sum. Dubito, ergo cognito, ergo sum."
in english: "I think, therefore I am. I doubt, therefore I think, therefore I am."
what he's basically saying is that the very fact that I am able to think proves my existence, because what does not exist, therefore does not think. However, it does not prove that you exist, because although you can think, I don't know if you can truely think, ergo, I don't know if you really exist.
Also, the very fact that I doubt my existence, proves I am capable of rational thought, which in turn proves that I exist. however, if you doubt your existence, it does not equal that you are capable of rational thought. Maybe you're all just a figment of my imagination.

Poem:

Moonlight's Splendor
Look at the moon
Tell me, what do you see?
A portal to a world
where your dreams can be?
A magical theme park
where your attention is fee?
Or in this cosmic golf-game of life
the golf ball on a tee?

I see an orb filled with hope
parading through the night
Before the dark clouds of reason
cover its sweet light
Maybe a circus mirror
distorting whats wrong and right
Till the point you don't know
if you're still fighting the good fight

But if you trudge on through the night
and upon the moon you cling
And when the sun begins to shine
the new day heralding
Remember to thank your guide
The moonlight, the night's king
bid it good will, you'll see it again
once the night renews its coming.

Written by: Krantol Northic
Thanks goes to: Sharmila, my physical science teacher, for making lessons so boring I'm forced to do something else with my time.

Yes, I'm typing this out at 4.50 in the morning.
strike out the sleeping-early part

call this an extra-long make-up post

I'm psychotic
and yes, I miss you
but its not who you think it is

Labels: poem

There are weeks that are draining.
There are weeks which are filling.
And there are weeks you feel in between

There are weeks that bring anger
There are weeks that bring joy
And there are weeks where you need more caffeine

There are weeks you're filled with passion
There are weeks you're filled with pain
And there are weeks where you just stick with routine

There are weeks you're over the moon
There are weeks you're a buffoon
And there are weeks you're stuck in a ravine

There are weeks you're feeling hyper
There are weeks you're feeling emo
And there are weeks you lament on what you've seen

There are weeks that are draining.
There are weeks which are filling.
And there are weeks where God's working, unseen

There. A poem. I'm lazy.

Its not one of my better pieces, but I like the last stanza.

It about sums it up. Nothing much more to say other than sorry to you-know-who-you-are.

Labels: poem

re-read the title please
again

now, make sure you understand it before reading on. again.

Alright, time for emo poem

What am I supposed to do
With every thing concerning you
What am I supposed to say
Will you help me find my way
Do you like to see me hurt
Or am I just being absurd
Why are you being my bane
And infusing me with pain
My mind is spinning round
And my heart's feeling unsound
My mind's reeling from words
Cause everything you said I heard
I'm burning up from the inside
I can hardly see the light
But its on the light I depend
Cause my God is my true friend
I'll walk by faith and not by sight
Its for my God that I will fight
These words I might not mean
So just forget all you have seen


I asked for a problem to take my mind off things
be careful what you wish for



EDIT: just found this out
go to the TCC website
look under services--> weekend services
scroll all the way down
look on the right side

apparently, I commented.
I actually remember doing it
hm.

Labels: poem

The heart's thumping, goes insane
Inside's crazy, shortcircuited brain
Lungs are failing, breathe is drained
Not feeling as if I'm sane
The sun's out, no more rain

I open my mouth and say: hi

Tadaa, poem tastic

Labels: poem

So this marks my first post of the year, so lets make it a good one.

Watchnight was awesome in so many ways. Dinner at macs (again) was a taste of what its gonna be like at FUEL. I've also come to realise I can annoy sister Kassey as well as I annoy my sister, though only time will tell if thats a good thing.

Nothing much more to add, other than have a blessed new year.



Like a wolf that howls at the moonlit skies
I beseech you to remove her from my eyes
And remove from me the sweet madness of love
As the wolf howls at the skies above.

Labels: poem

The sky is dark
the moments are bleak
where can I find the peace I seek

The rain pours down
in the many shades of gray
leaving me astounded, nothing to say

confusion looms
hearts of stone
thoughts like that chill me to the bone

face the truth
strip away all lies
find the person deep inside

why the anger
why the hate
why are we getting into heated debates?

needing people
needing things
needing the saneness that it brings

my misjudgment
my mistake
my smile on my face is so very fake

looking at myself
I feel so dumb
what great monster have I become?

give it a day
give it two
give it the days to see it through.

In the tunnel
where's the light
or maybe I've just lost my sight

Labels: poem

Well well, where to start.

My com's Macfee is back up and thus, all cboxes now flee my computer. Its the utter irony of the situation that creates a twisted funni-ness. Is that even a word? Maybe they should release a dictionary of gideon. That would be weird.

Today was the LOST event. My group was honor and we did the name proud. The most memorable moment would be... either somehow running into a string causing it to slice my stomach or eating every part of the apple except the stalk. Memories...

Time for a poem!

Shades of grey
Grey skies, grey faces, grey feelings, grey hearts
Thats what keeps the world apart
From unity, which has no bounds
That engulfs and surrounds

The grey moves, dark as clouds
The great evil it does shroud
Moves along, devouring its prey
Those who resist, it doth slay

But forget not, my dear friends
There is a chance to make amends
For what is grey without its white?
But a mute man with no sight

But for this brightness to ignite
First the darkness it must fight
An epic battle doth ensue
And we will definately see it through

Done. Pardon the sometimes-arcane english. I just thought it fitted better at some places.

I hate the feeling of being blind to other peoples feelings.

You know, the worst part is that I think you're right.

Labels: poem

If

If you can trust me when I say
"Tomorrow will be a wonderful day"
And even when you dont think so
Give a wide smile and say "I know"
If you can treat my burdens and trials and pains
And my joy and pleasures all the same
If you can pull me up at my lowest low
Against my constant repeated "no"

If you can hold me down when I go mad
Assure me when times are bad
Give advice when I need
Even though I may not heed
Keep me safe one way or another
Yet knowing when not to smother
If my heart's wishes you comprehend
I'd be more than proud to call you my friend

This would be the poem I said I would write
I drew inspiration from this poem
No, this poem is not an extention of how I feel, but an unleashing of feelings I know other people have.
Now, my second poem
first attempt at free form non-rhyme

The Price of Trust
What, my friend is the price of trust?
A simple word, spoken at the right time?
Or a courageous deed, of unspoken bravery?
Or a look in the eyes, which speaks thousands?
Or a pat on the back, done with utmost confidence?
Or maybe just an undying loyalty?

Viola
I'm busy trying to make a blogskin involving a random quote that came to me in the middle of service :"Remove the safety cap on your fire of passion."

Have a nice day, all you blog-readers.

Labels: poem

Been an eventful few days
shan't go into details
call it my laziness.

Poem!

And it sat there, deadly still
Stuck in the darkness, against its will
It tried to stretch its arms and feet
But this thick darkness, it could not beat
Limited its movement, again and again
Nothing could be done, although it did strain

So it lay there, deep inside
Eating the food, letting time bide
Until, alas, the food, no more
Sucked down deep into his core
But great strength was his reward
And so was the freedom he so greatly sought

He pushed his arms, higher and higher
As was his deepest, greatest desire
His feet lengthened, as did his arms
Which was a great cause for alarm
Until its arms lengthened beyond the dark
He felt the light, which was his mark

The light, it shone, upon his hands
Raw, unbridled, coarse like sand
It filled him up, heart and soul
It made him strong and brave and bold
He knew that now, it would be alright
Now that he had the wonderous light

The years went by, he grew and grew
And so did the emotions that inside him brew
He felt strong and he felt proud
He felt his beauty should be shouted loud
His mind did craft, his mind did think
And many different thoughts did link

The thoughts were done, the actions started
His hands, they built, they flew, they darted
Until, at last, the job was done
He had to admit he had some fun
His job was finished, he had to smile
He admired and loved it, all the while

And it was done at last
From the humble seed, to a beautiful flower

Ta daaaaah
enjoy :)
Im in a good mood.

Labels: poem